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UUSBERG

The waiting hall of a railway station. A hall where people wait for
trains. A happy pianist with his personal orchestra. A man suddenly
enters the station and brushes dust and sand off his clothes. He, too,
was once a pianist. The happy pianist and the dusty pianist know each
other well. They are seemingly friends, but it has been a long time
since their last meeting. Obviously too long. Idealism is sometimes out
of place – it is, but it has no place. Perhaps it still does, though.